Watching Kiyone
by Namimakura
Summary: He knew, had known all along that he wasn't worthy of her. But somehow, Ukitake couldn't seem to stop himself from caring about her. Part of the Lost and Found series. For Feilyn. First uki/kiy story!


AN: Hmmm... well, much as i tried to prevent it, i think i did make ukitake a tad too angsty. oops. either way, this is supposed to be a part of the lost and found series. this is for feilyn. tosses out bunches of love for feilyn... also, fun stuff for me today. got robbed of eighty bucks. yeah. so i'm writing to cheer myself up. instead of work, which is what i should have done. oh well. regardless, i hope you enjoy!! and review... reviews are tasty too. and hey! guess what! this is the first (and so far only) story in the ukitake/kiyone category! grins... kinda makes me giggle.

xXx

_Kiyone_.

Watching Kiyone wasn't anything like watching an angel. She wasn't perfect. Her skin didn't have that pale gleam and she certainly wasn't as pure. She didn't even have wings. She wasn't an image of grace.

But Ukitake was watching her all the same.

He couldn't quite explain how or when his emotions had changed. The only real explanation he could offer was that losing Sentarou had altered them both. Irreversibly.

Once upon a time, Kiyone and Sentarou had been inseparable. They were the dynamic duo, always together, always fighting. They had tried the whole of the Seireitei's patience with their constant bickering. Ukitake alone had been able to tolerate their constant squabbles. Though he'd told no one, he had actually found them to be rather endearing.

Two almost permanently stuck in childhood.

How he envied them that.

The fact was, he could have always loved her and he wouldn't have known the difference. He thought it likely that he had. And regardless, it wouldn't have mattered.

Because he never would have deserved her.

He was certain that there would be those who wouldn't understand. How could they after all? When many people saw Kiyone, they saw a girl with a tendency towards speaking her mind and shoving herself in others faces. They saw a girl broken with the loss of a best friend. Hopeless at paperwork even though passable at fighting. How could they understand why he loved her if that was all they saw?

Ukitake knew Kiyone better than anyone. He knew her strengths, her weaknesses, her tireless devotion, her childishness, her broken heart, lost loved ones and the way she didn't quite stutter when she was nervous. When he looked at her, he saw a child with the courage of a woman. When Sentarou died, so had she. She had lost all hope, all her dreams. But she picked up the pieces. Why?

Because if she didn't, there would be no one left to care for Ukitake.

She pulled herself together just for him. To help him, to protect him.

It overwhelmed him. The sheer determination that drove her, all for his sake.

He couldn't take it. He knew he was unworthy of the unconditional devotion she showered over him. He didn't want to take it from her. But, at the same time, he could not deny her gift, because if he did, she would no longer have any reason to survive.

And he would sooner accept it than see a light like hers go out.

Ukitake was old. He had seen years. He had seen decades, even centuries pass by in the Seireitei. He had seen thousands come and go, too many of them dying young.

Too often, had he been the one sending them to their deaths, sometimes knowing what was coming.

Ukitake also knew himself better than anyone. He was one of the strongest captains in the Seireitei, but he had the most fatal weakness. He'd lived for centuries, but he could die at any time. He was practically a symbol of goodness.

But he'd done things others would have been ashamed to know.

The price of living for so long was the darkness of understanding corruption, greed, sacrifices and death. He'd had the chances to indulge and be all of them.

He felt it as a permanent stain on his soul that he could never be free of.

Kiyone deserved someone free of such a past. Free of the burdens of guilt. Free of the memories of the dead. Free to live beside her.

To not have to worry every day if he would live to see the next. He would not, _could not_, place such a burden on her.

On the other hand, he was the only one who seemed able to appreciate her.

Ukitake had seen endless lifetimes pass before his eyes. He'd seen so many come and go. He'd seen every kind of soul be it honest, naïve, young, happy, depressed, wild, betrayed, vengeful, cunning, clever, dark, hopeful, ambitious, self-sacrificing. He'd seen everything.

As such, he'd seen the folly of perfection and the errors of adulthood. So many souls spent so much time seeking to gain perfection. Always stronger, always better than the one beside him. So there was no one in the world quite like him who could appreciate the beauty and freedom of youth.

When he looked at Kiyone, he saw the innocence of youth. She was untouched by horrors like what he had seen. She had not tainted herself as he had.

She didn't pretend perfection. She didn't pretend to be an angel of mercy or forgiveness. She was just herself-trying, failing, trying again, sometimes succeeding. She was sometimes happy, sometimes sad, sometimes immature. She made no excuses for her actions, she simply was. She was the truth.

Ukitake had seen what had become of all kinds of souls. Most of them were dead. Because he had lived for so long and seen so much, he valued very different qualities than the average shinigami.

He could find redeeming value in a man barely surviving behind an emotionless mask, like Byakuya. He could see the traps in the path that Toushirou was following. The genius, always hungering for greater strength. Loving so deeply that he cannot live without it.

And he found that he valued very different things than he had when he was young. He loved Kiyone for being real. For being only the truth. For not hiding, for not reaching. For protecting. For living for others. For being childish. For being alive. For remembering. For understanding and not understanding. For loving him.

Even if he couldn't accept it.

Because he had seen everything.

He was too old. Knew all the pitfalls. He was stuck in a past while she was happily in the future. The same quality that showed him how to love her also illuminated so clearly how truly unworthy of her he was. He carried too heavy a weight on his shoulders. He couldn't let it fall on hers too.

It didn't help that he was afflicted by this _disease_. He would not have wished such a fate on anyone. The constant worry of whether or not _this _attack would be the end.

It wasn't that he didn't see himself as valuable. He understood that the sacrifices he'd made had been necessary. And whether or not they had been the best decision was in the past. Changing his mind now could hardly fix it then. He could not control that he was this ill. It wasn't precisely fair to blame himself or deprive himself based on that.

But looking at her, watching her as he was prone to do, he couldn't help but feel that she deserved more. More than he could offer.

She had already suffered so badly with the loss of Sentarou.

How would it be if he finally _did _die?

He simply could not do that to her.

Not to Kiyone. Not when she could turn her head and _smile _at him that way right before turning back to glare at the paperwork.

He would not burden her with the love of a dying man.

He wouldn't.

But still, he couldn't help but watch her.

xXx

(watch her get very angry at that paperwork and moan and shout and scribble all over it. such a lovely afternoon. giggles)


End file.
